


Sherlollipops - The Goldilocks Zone

by MizJoely



Series: 221 Sherlollipops [211]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Sherlolly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2016-11-17
Packaged: 2018-08-31 11:19:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8576407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MizJoely/pseuds/MizJoely
Summary: Not too nice, not too evil, just right. Sherlock is Molly's Goldlocks Zone all right!





	

“Sherlock, yer my baby bear.”

Molly Hooper was drunk off her arse, but Sherlock responded to her as if she was as sober as he was. “Molly, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

She gazed up at him through eyes gone even bigger and browner than usual, absolutely shining with sincerity as she laid a hand on his arm and leaned forward…and continued leaning forward until he reached out with an alarmed exprssion on his face and helped her into a (relatively) upright position. “My baby bear,” she repeated, very slowly. “You know? Like inna fairly tale? Goldi Hawn anna three bears.” She raised her hand and held up four fingers, frowned, then grinned as she reached out with her other hand and tugged the pinky finger down. “Mamma bear, papa bear, baby bear. You’re my baby bear, dontcha see?”

Sherlock couldn’t help grinning back at her in spite of his continued bemusement. They were at John and Mary’s anniversary party and Molly had polished off three quarters of a bottle of rather nice red all by herself, along with a few shots of something Mary refused to disclose. Which was why he was sitting with her in the Watson’s spare bedroom, trying to coax her into bed so she could sleep it off. “Nope, sorry, still don’t see,” he admitted as he worked her shoes off her feet.

She was propped up against the headboard, still waving three fingers in front of his face. “You’re not Tom an’ you’re not Jim,” she declared.

He pulled a face. “No, definitely not,” he agreed. “Not drunk, either, which is more than I can say for you, Doctor Hooper.”

She giggled. “I like it when you call me that, ‘Doctor Hooper’, makes me sound perfreshinal…perfeshinal…like I know my job reeeaaaallly good!”

“You do know your job really good,” he replied as he slid her feet beneath the sheet and duvet. “Really well,” he corrected himself with a shake of the head.

“Yesh,” she agreed solmenly, finally lowering her hand to her lap. “Buuttt I alsho know my fairly tales. An’ you’re still my baby bear. Not Tom, he was too nice.” She wrinkled her nose. “Not Jim, cause he was too dang’rush. But youuuu…” she sing-songed the last word, “you are jusht right, Sherlock Scoot Willem Hol-mes.”

He winced as she mangled his name - especially since she decided to pronounce the silent ‘l’ in his last name - but at least now he understood what she was trying to say. “You’re saying I’m in the Goldilocks zone,” he said with a nod as he tucked the covers up around her waist and helped her lie down. He’d already managed to get some paracetamol tablets and a glass of water into her, and hoped it would be enough to keep the raging hangover she was bound to experience to a manageable level.

“Yesh,” Molly replied sleepily as she turned onto her side. “Zactly it. My baby bear.”

He sighed and shook his head as her eyes drooped shut. He waited until he heard a soft snore from her lips, then leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Goodnight, Goldilocks.”

The next morning when Molly woke up, she was pathetically pleased to find a full glass of water and some paracetamol waiting for her on the unfamiliar nightstand. “Oh God I need to stay away from the red,” she mumbled as she swallowed the pills and gulped down about half of the water. Only when she went to replace it on the nightstand - must be at John and Mary’s, she deduced - did she notice the folded piece of paper lying there.

Leaning back against the pillows, she opened it.

_Dearest Molly,_ she read. _In case you’ve blacked out on our conversation last night, I have decided that you are my baby bear as well. When you’re feeling up to it, send me a text and I’ll take you back to your flat so we can talk about this change in our relationship. Love, Sherlock XXX_

She read it over three times before finally fumbling for her mobile and dialing Sherlock’s number. He answered on the first ring. “ _Yes I mean it,_ ” he said before she could do more than open her mouth. “ _Since we’re in each other’s Goldilocks zone, there’s no point in dithering over it a minute longer than we have to. I’ll be there in about an hour to pick you up, plenty of time for you to have a cup of coffee and make yourself as presentable as you think necessary, although of course I can promise you I’ll think you look wonderful no matter what. Bye!_ ”

With a click he was gone and Molly wasted no time in rolling out of bed, despite her massive headache.

As Sherlock had said, there was no point in dithering when they were finally on the same page.


End file.
